The Dragon Who Leapt through Time
by R4N3
Summary: Some people are desperate enough to do the forbidden, knowing the chances of success are nearly nonexistent. Issei Hyoudou however only wanted the pain to stop.
1. Prologue

Prologue

The Less Than Triumphant Return

Even in a world where almost every myth and legend were true, none could tamper with the past. No, that is not entirely correct. Time was certainly movable forward, could, with some effort, stopped using sacred gear 'Forbidden Balor View' and with a much greater effort be turned back through various rituals and by deities related to time such as the Greek Titan Kronos. But in that case why did not everybody return in time in order to correct their mistakes? The answer was simple, nobody could. There are many examples both recorded and otherwise where desperate beings swam upstream through the flow of time in order to correct their mistakes. However, none of their 'corrections' survived until the arrival of the expected result. The most believed reason for this phenomenon is that 'the Greater Existence' interfered with the outcome, taking things back to the 'way it should be'. This theory has caused many beings to come to the conclusion that everything _would_ happen in a specific order of events, thereby not making any effort in order to achieve any accomplishment.

This, however, is disapproved by the diary of Marius Astaroth which was written by the Devil I the name of Marius Astaroth during the late 14th century. It records the said devil's actions while he was trying to save his lover from a gruesome death after being captured by a rival family in a territory dispute. However when he prevented her capture, his lover died due to a stray arrow during hunting, and so on and so on the cycle continued until the cause of death was a heart failure which was unheard among devils. The consequences of travelling through time multiple times are unknown, however, though the book was found in a classified location within the underworld, there is no record of Marius Astaroth ever existing even though every other person named in the diary including the said lover who died in an heart failure does or did exist.

This brings us back to 'the Greater Existence'. No one knows what, where or how it exists. Only that it does and that its power was like a sea if Great red was a metaphorical drop of water. None dared to search for it and if they did, then they did not exist. That is not to say that none searched for it but that they literary ceased to exist, their existence fading into a distant daydream. This caused all pantheons to destroy the records all time-related rituals and experiments, their records erased and all practitioners hunted down till they were extinct or powerless to do anything related to the Greater existence, in fear of the whole race ceasing to exist.

However, even this never stopped or discouraged any that tried to defy their designated fate through the mean of time travel for there was someone desperate enough to attempt the forbidden.

Which brings us to the pair in a structure that could only be called a hovel by a river in the to be the Sitri territory or to be correct what used to be the Sitri territory. They again were a pair whose loss was great enough their experiences terrible enough to attempt the forbidden.

The man of brown hair and mismatched eyes stood vigil as the woman prepared the ritual circle using the mixture of lead-based paint blood and other miscellaneous materials for he had neither experience nor expertise on the subject. Therefore he resigned himself to the fate of watching a master at work. He might have felt inadequate had not the said master been on all fours her shapely behind wiggling as she tried to reach a section of the circle without messing the parts already imprinted on the wooden floor. He absently noted how she managed to look elegant even at such a position. She truly deserved the titles of Heiress of Sitri and the Princess of the crystal water.

* * *

This all began with a single human.

A human who was wronged too many times, powerless against foes that wielded powers that was very much out of the reach for any human. However, the one thing that was s greatest weakness he made into his greatest strength.

His humanity.

In a world where dragons that conceptualized dreams and infinity dwelled, where angels and demons rampaged and gods looked upon how did humans, such a weak creature exist, much less thrive? It was due to the weakness of a human that they thrived. Knowing their bodies were inferior they used their minds to bridge the gap. And even though their power as a whole could not even begin to compare to one even God started taking notice.

For there was nothing as powerful as humanity.

Everyone had forgotten its true power.

He reminded them.

His name was Catalyst.

* * *

Rias was the first loss among them.

The crimson-haired heiress was dead before the war truly even began. She visited her great-grandfather, Zakram Bael together with her older brother and never returned. Neither did Sirzechs. It was the event that marked the end of the beginning and the beginning of the end.

They did not know who to trust and neither did any devil, however when they discovered what was truly happening, neither Kiba nor Rossweisse were breathing.

The great king, Zakram Bael had switched sides and now the old Satan faction has gained most of the pure-blooded devils.

Then in a series of events they were hunted down one by one until all that was left were Asia and himself. They were at their lowest when they were found by Gryfia, the now widowed strongest queen. She kept them safe for three years before they found Sona, devoid of her family or peerage but still living and breathing. It was then that the man allowed himself to hope that their group might survive. He shouldn't have tempted the fates. For within a month both Asia and Gryfia were lost to them. Maybe it was their desperation, maybe their anger but it was then that they started striking back. And after the death of Sairaorg Bael, they were the top on the wanted list.

It was their mistake to assume the things would stay in between the devils. And none of them realized this before a spear of light impaled Millicas through his heart. Months of depression later they both started to live with it, or at least survive with it. Their hope returned when they accidentally came across an ancient Egyptian tomb containing forbidden knowledge which included the secrets of travelling through time.

The ritual was not too hard as long as an abundance of power could be amassed to a point. This was why they started to search for how it all began.

* * *

The catalyst was a martyr. A true martyr considering that he was dead when his plans bore fruits and his death started the plans. Like cancer spreading through the bloodstream, his plans infected each and every faction, igniting a battle royale against and within each and every pantheon. Not many gained anything out of this, not many but the catalyst, a man dead for a century that aimed for the destruction of each and every supernatural entity.

He cleverly planned a method to shatter the already fragile peace into smallest pieces possible and stomp on them but dust and destruction remained. And he truly succeeded or would have had he not done a single miscalculation. Where were they to fight?

The world was a barren wasteland. The heaven nonexistent and underworld an eternal battleground, this must not have been what Catalyst, the unknown human male who panned this hoped for, but had destruction and not the freedom of humanity what he hoped for, he couldn't have planned better.

* * *

It must have been a few hours before she woke him, and the first thing he noticed was his ability to move, or to be specific, the lack of it. He was tied up and the spirit of Ddraig that dwelled within him after the destruction of the Boosted gear was suppressed to such a degree that he barely felt it.

"Sona! What…" The man was silenced by the dark-haired devil with a kiss.

"I'm sorry Ise." She finally said looking at the puzzled face of the former red dragon emperor. Not giving him a chance to respond she continued. "I lied. When I said that your power can send us back, I lied."

The man was silent and she took it as her cue to continue. "The only way to do this is a sacrifice."

"Why Did you tie me up then Sona I'll gladly…" the man stopped as with a tug the former heiress removed her robe, showing that she was wearing nothing underneath, nothing but the scars recently carved into her body which even him could identify as runes.

"Sona…. You…" The man growled, the spirit of a dragon rising despite its suppressed state and turning his left iris red again as he struggled against both the physical and magical restraints as if his or in this case, her life depended upon it.

"I'm sorry Issei but this is the only way. Sometimes you need to sacrifice a bishop to checkmate." The woman said raising a silver dagger above her head.

"Sona! Stop this!" The man struggles never ceased. Not even when the blade plunged down. Not when her blood sprayed onto his face and not when she whispered: "I love you."

He was still struggling against his bonds when the runes lit up, blinding him and then Issei Hyoudou was no more.

* * *

It was dark. Like going into a cave from under the midday sun, while I could see there was something inside it was too hard to distinguish what lied before me, which was highly unusual considering that all devils could see in the dark.

I think I could still feel blood, ' _her blood_ ' my mind echoed, running down my face. The blood itself was of no consequence. A blood splatted face was of no consequence, it was nothing strange or unfamiliar for me, yet it was the fact that the blood belonged to her that made me nauseous.

It was her blood, the blood of the only person I had left to protect, the person I promised to protect as my brother in all but blood lied in a puddle of his own bold with a spear of light running through his chest, she was the last person who I could have possibly fallen in love with.

And she was dead.

Dead, because of me.

Why did sh…

My internal conflict was cut short as I felt _ITs_ presence. I couldn't see it with my eyes, hear _IT_ with my ears or smell it. But I could feel _IT._ The closest comparison I could give would be the presence I felt when Gryfia unleashed the full extent of her power, yet much _much_ more potent. In fact, comparing _THIS_ to Gryfia would be akin to comparing an ant to the great red. It was while logically possible, yet the practicality was another reason.

I was shaking like a leaf in the wind, and I am pretty sure that I had pissed myself. And the scariest part was that I could feel _IT_ actively trying to hold back _ITs_ presence.

I struggled to scream, run, hide, or roll into a stuttering mess and cry myself silly, yet all I could do was to stay as still as a stone statue as _IT_ reached out to me.

"Wh…What the hell are you?" I finally stuttered out, my bravery, in this case, amounted less to do with confidence and more with the realization that there was nothing to lose if I die right this second.

Suddenly my mind was assaulted by visions… no memories. Memories of my past.

" _IT's called_ _ **the greater existence**_ _." The dark hared angel, or in this case the devil perched atop his lap announced as she went through another tome in a speed that far surpassed mine unless doujin were involved. "Nobody knows anything ab…."_

The memory faded only to be replaced by another.

" _There is a good chance that we might encounter_ _ **the greater existence**_ _if we go through with this." The words were whispered as they lied next to each other by the campfire, trying not to think about the cold that constantly assaulted their bodies. "What are…"_

And another.

" _Nothing useful here." The former heiress uncharacteristically threw the book with her whole strength, which caused it to impact the wall at such a velocity it's pages detached and slowly glided down onto the dusty floor of the abandoned library belonging to her late sister. "Not a single book about_ _ **the greater existence**_ _. Why…"_

Before another memory could torment me, I decided to speak up. "Are you what we call 'the greater existence'?" I winced as _IT_ flooded into my mind positive emotions. Assuming it was a 'yes' I then asked the question that he had as soon as he felt _ITs_ power. "Are you here to kill me?"

Negative emotions crashed into my mind, causing me to grunt in pain at the sharp headache it came with. I assumed it was a denial, seeing that I still existed. "Then why…" I started my question but was unable to finish it, owing to the fact that my mind started to remember past events again.

" _Hey Kiba, did you bring that you borrowed last month? You've been forgetting to bring it for some time now." I demanded. My precious doujin better not have been lost by this damn pretty boy. "Ahaha. Sorry, Issei_ _ **My mistake**_ _. I'll really bring it back tomorrow. I promi…"_

And again

" _Issei-sama, did you and Millicas avoid the morning exercises again?" The maid from hell, in this case, both literary and figuratively, asked with a friendly smile that promised swift and painful retribution, which caused both of the addressed males to hold onto each other in fear. "N… No Gryfia we did it earlier than usual today." The answer caused the 'friendly smile' to vanish from her face along with the malicious intent that haunted anyone exposed to the said smile. "Ah, forgive me._ _ **I must have mistaken**_ _. Please contin…"_

"All right I get it" I interrupted. "I'm not an idiot. I get that you made a mistake.", only to start remembering a different set of memories.

"… _we use Iron as a_ _ **catalyst**_ _when producing ammonia at an industrial scale." The vice president of the ORC finished reading the textbook, only to realize her cute little kouhai was sound asleep. "Ufufufu… Issei-kun this calls for some…_ punishment."

And then,

" _ **The Catalyst**_ _." The former president of the student council reported to him. "That's all I could get. Not even a real na…"_

"So the catalyst was a mistake you made is it?"I demanded, all rationality gone as everyone's deaths that never failed to haunt me resurfaced all at once, only to stop breathing at the amount of malicious intent that was directed at me. If I hadn't pissed myself before I surely had now.

"What do you want? Why are you tormenting me like this?" I choked out barely able to speak. And this time I welcomed the memories. I'd have, at that moment, done anything; even swear off all oppai to get away from _THAT._

" _Issei-san, can you tell me the_ _ **correct**_ _answer for this?" The former nun asked the holder of the boosted gear as she held out her mathematics textbook._

And came the next memory,

 _The crimson-haired ruin princess leaned down on the red dragon emperor as he knelt down in disappointment as he failed to activate a basic teleportation circle again. "Don't worry Ise. You'll do this_ _ **correctly**_ _if it's the last thing you do." In her face appeared a smile that she must have gained from her sister in law. I absently lamented on why all the women that were in my life, except for the sweet and kind Asia, had to be violent.' "And I really mean that. There's no way to get out of here without a teleportation circle. So you might want to…"_

Then came the next.

* * *

I was too lost on the memories to realize that I was no longer before _IT._ In fact, I couldn't feel _IT_ anywhere at all.

All I could feel was cold.

All I could see was a field of white.

"Hey! You there! Miss, are you okay?" I heard feminine a voice from above me.

It was then that I realized that I was lying face down on a snowy field.

And I was naked if the melting snow running down from below my body, robbing it of heat, was any indication.

Wait what did that damn woman mean by 'miss'.

I am a guy. My name is …

My name is…

I am…

I…

Who…?

Who am I…?

"Hey! Are you okay?" The voice sounded much nearer yet not as clear as before.

"Wh…" I tried to ask but no voice came up. I was too tired to speak, too confused to form any words.

I'm just so damn tired.

Maybe a little sleep… yes, sleep sounds nice.

"Hey wa…up! Don …eep on m…."

My mind couldn't comprehend anything anymore. But I knew there was something important I should remember.

Maybe after a little nap?

"Hel… mebody….lp!"

Yeah. Sleep sounds nice.

Sleep… sounds… nice.

* * *

 **AN**

 **Hello, guys, I'm back after grueling 6 months of exam study. And let me tell you life is hard for a repeat student.**

 **Anyway, I plan to update this fic and publish or to be correct re-publish the other fic that some might have noticed the disappearance of within a short amount of time but do forgive me for not making it a priority. after a day of classes and a night of part-time jobs, I am very busy cranky and not in the mood for writing much.**

 **Not into anything interesting yet. A little series of flashbacks to define the bond between Issei and others.**

 **I have a question does small chapters like this seem okay to you or should I write for upto about 10K before posting? (It will obviously take more time)**

 **Please do** review **and make sure to offer me suggestions or point out my mistakes I plan to correct and re-upload this chapter if it is not up to the standards.**


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Ends and Beginnings

Injured people usually wake up, suddenly going immediately from unconscious to hyperaware in movies. I, on the other hand, took my time, a long, long, time of floating through an unclear set of memories.

Nothing could be heard through the mist that separated my consciousness with them.

Except for a single name that I heard clearly above all else.

Well, that and many verities from the venerable sounding '*****-sama' to a friendly '***-chan' and the cute '***-tan'.

I knew instinctively that it was my name.

But never could I hear a single syllable of it.

And that was all I could fathom before dragged into another whirlwind of memories that I would not be able to remember.

* * *

Next time I woke there was a silhouette before me, clad I white, in fact, it was more of a white blurry blob rather than a silhouette but considering that same blurriness was present everywhere I looked, I came to the conclusion that it was indeed a silhouette of a human being. One with an ample chest, not quite rivaling Ri… R… who?

I could remember the name, I should be able to remember the name. But all I felt was the frustration of not being able to remember a single name that was just out of reach to my mind, leaving that itchy feeling in my brain.

The next thing I noticed about her (unless of course, it was a transsexual standing above me) was the fact she was a nun. Not the one with the wrinkled face and kind smile, nor was she childlike and innocent like As… A … 'her'. In fact, she could have been from a cover of an adult magazine. Yet she somehow managed to glow with an ethereal unseen aura that radiated innocence that could have only belonged to a child. In fact, this smile would not look out of place on the face of an angel if there were such a thing in this cruel world.

"I see you are awake." After what seemed like a dozen minutes the nun broke the silence. Her voice clearly accented in a way I have not heard since I met Ro…

"Ugh…" I let out a sound somewhere between choking and screaming, though out of a sharp headache or the painful sensation in my left arm I did not know.

It is a curious behavior among children and adults to look at a part of his or her body that caused pain. Therefore I shouldn't be blamed for pulling out my hand from beneath the sheets and taking a look. Nor I am sure will anybody blame me for the sound that spilled from my mouth at the sight that greeted me.

Though only I knew It was not from the lack of a hand, but due to something that was fundamentally a part of me that couldn't ? … shouldn't … _mustn't_ be taken away from me being lost to me. And then the darkness greeted me once more taunting me with a name that I could barely touch with my fingertips but could not for all I tried to get a hold of.

* * *

Her name was Anna Raskolnikov, with no patronymic owing to the fact that none knew her parents. She was left by the door of a Catholic convent on a night of snow, as many before her were. However, what made her separate from those unfortunate souls was the fact that she survived and thrived where many did not survive let alone last more than a week.

She was considered a miracle granted of the god's kindness, and grew up following the footsteps of the sisterhood, later becoming famed within certain circles as Sister Anna of the hearth. However only a few knew the truth of the matter considering it involved a world of angels and devils.

It started with a visit from a priest to the convent when she was only five years old. He looked like your average kind priest from storybooks. Clean-shaven with a kind smile that couldn't be removed with a demonic sword, he was truly an average priest as much as Jhon Smith was an average American.

He was there to investigate the rumors of a possible young nun with _miracles_. Of course many were hesitant to go along with this but then again Sister Anna had never been sick, even her visage displayed less of a girl growing up in the harsh winter lands of northern Russia and more of a Princess who had maids serving her hands and feet that wanted for nothing. In fact, some even went as far as to say that a single look at her face could make them feel ten years younger.

After the first priest, more and more priests came, some alone, some with an escort, but each one much grander than before, until finally, a man who was not of cloth yet that looked much closer to what a man of faith would look appeared, Introducing himself as Michal, and only so. That was the beginning of her introduction to the world of Angels and devils.

Sacred Gear, that was what they called her power, to be more specific it was the 'Bluebell Hearth', created using a powerful fae of fire it was a support type sacred gear that could heal or 'burn away' all ill alignments and most of the injuries, not much unlike the ability passed down within the Phenex devil lineage. In fact, it was only a small step below 'Twilight Healing' in its effectiveness of healing as it focused mainly on curses and magical ill effects where Twilight healing was all about healing any and all damage of organic beings.

She was treated as close to an angel as a human would be in the church from the moment she set her foot in Europe. In fact, meeting and interacting with angels was a part of her daily routine not long after. For every grievous injury, may it be of an angel or the lowest exorcist, she was the first choice. For every incurable disease, may it be of the pope or the lowest alter boy, she was the best option. And this cycle continued for almost two decades.

Sister Anna was satisfied with this. She may never be able to make friends, but she had healed the injuries of thousands for every person she may have befriended. True she may never bring life to this world, but for every child, she might have had (and she wished for many), she brought thousands more from the brink of death.

And this cycle might have continued till her last breath if she had the choice in this matter, but it all changed on a fateful day that she set her foot on the bloodstained aftermath of a battle.

* * *

Sister Anna knew where most of her patients came from, the cuts and bruises of that caliber could not spawn from running into a door of course. However, never had she seen the aftermath of a battle till she literally rode into one misty morning.

The newly installed gas lamps dimly lit the streets as the carriage containing sister Anna flanked by two guards broke the silence of misty Roman streets. SisterAnna was returning from a long journey to heal a battalion of angels injured in a battle against hellspawn and she was dozing, beyond exhausted when they came to a sudden stop.

Anna would have gone back to sleep had it not been for the familiar scent of blood that vapored into the cabin of the carriage.

Fearing the worst she all but burst out of the carriage, but what waited for her was not a man run over by a carriage but the blood-drenched aftermath of a battle.

"SISTER!" One of her guards shouted as he rushed to shield her from harm while the other rushed to check on the man with a standard exorcist armor lying in a puddle of his own blood, by an unopened shopfront.

However, she was not a woman to consider anything, even her personal safety when it came to healing someone. So it was shocking to neither of her guards when she rushed to the downed man. However, she knew the man was not alive anymore even before she reached her destination by his side and knelt on the blood unbothered by the life-giving liquid.

She was prepared for this, death was no stranger to her as there were some that came to her that was even beyond her ability to heal. What she was not prepared was for the faint voice that reached her through the mist.

"Please…" The raspy voice begged her. And despite the feeble protests of her guards, she ran through the mist in the direction of the voice until she came to a sudden halt.

There, with a sword buried in his guts with black leathery wings sprouting from his back was unmistakably a devil. She stood there her face frozen in shock, staring at the pitiful form of the hellspawn, his eyes begging for a shred of mercy. It was not a complicated deduction as to from whom and where the raven-haired and handsome devil had received the injury.

It was only when a sword rasped out from the scabbed of her guard did she snap out of the trance-like state he was in.

"NO!" The golden-haired nun shouted, and not looking at the now bared steel she declared with more than a small tremble in her voice "There is enough bloodshed done in this street for today.

Then Sister Anna, The maiden of miracles, Healer of thousands, knelt by the devil.

All she could remember next was thinking wether if angels and devils were that different at all.

* * *

There were many forgivable things in the church. Nicking a little fund was almost a tradition at this point and with enough influence, even casual violence could be covered up. However for all she had done for the church, not even sister Anna could get away with healing a devil, let alone one whose victim's body was still cooling.

Of course, there were many willing to cover up the incident for a small… compensation. However, sister Anna was and is still a woman of Conviction and refused, and left for the rural Siberia, one of the harshest inhabitable areas on earth and more importantly the place of her origin.

And so her life continued and she might have faded to obscurity, a footnote on the ledgers of the church had it not been for the arrival of an unexpected guest.

'I need to help her.' Was, of course, the first thought her mind came up with as soon as she observed the figure that had apparently decided to take a swim in a frozen river stark naked. Which was followed by 'where is her arm?'. She would forever deny stealing a look at the firm and rost tinted as… _ahem_ shoulders.

The life in, what must have been the harshest church on this side of the globe, was surprisingly bearable. There were food and a roof over my head. A mattress (barely) better than the cold and hard stone and a fireplace.

Sister Anna's hospitality was second to none as the healed, fed and clothed me with a smile on her face. The sounds her stomach leaked while she fed me for the first week told me the story of a truly faithful soul, who if the God was still here would have undoubtedly have accended to the hallowed halls beyond the pearly gates with wings of pure white.

I truly tried to make it up to her. I hunted, chopped woods and repaired any blemish on the small church, unheeding of her orders to rest. But I felt as if my debt to her would never truly be paid in full.

Three months came and went and with the harshest of winter ever looming closer, I felt as if I was finally ready to leave, my strength restored and my wounds healed, save for my left arm which was missing beyond the elbow. It did make things a bit more difficult but I had managed to do most things myself and Sister Anna was never less eager to help. I would be lying if I said I wouldn't miss the feel of her hand tracing a path as she helped me into one of her heavy spare gowns. It was a bit airy in the chest area but I never did feel any insecurity over my nonexistent breasts.

I was almost ready to leave, in fact, I was one step away from stepping out of the cramped house, though it was less a house and more a shed, that I'd shared with sister Anna for the last four months that I finally discovered something which could have linked me to my past.

The single feather of gleaming silver, which no law of nature should allow flight, that rested on my cot.

'Nephilim'

My mind provided me a word for the being it belonged to.

The immortal offsprings of 'sons of God' and 'daughters of men', an unholy union of a witch who threw away her humanity and an angel that wanted to bolster the legion of the heavens under the command of God. An abhorrent existence whose law was the god's word and reacted to none else, a race hunted down to its extinction by their own parents as the God realized how easily they were seduced to darkness by the fallen.

This needed consideration. And I needed time for it.

If Anna's eyes lit up at the sight of me tending to the fireplace as she returned It did not warm my heart.

 _Not at all._

* * *

From that day, I dreamt of life.

Micaella, daughter of two unfeeling Nephilim, one among a thousand, whose only uniqueness could be attributed to the fact that her ancestor was the archangel whom she was named after.

Being a second-generation nephilim, or daughter of two nephilim she was much more self-aware than her parents. Even among her peers, she was brimming curious and cheerful, almost as if she was a newly created guardian angel.

But that she was not.

Her innocence died with her first kill barely a decade into her life.

Her cheer died with her stoic father no better than automation as he marched to a suicidal order.

Her dreams died with her first innocent victim, as the blood of a half-devil dried onto her face.

So she was no different than the average nephilim within the second decade of her existence. A characterless soldier that marched to the tune, not unlike her mother and late father.

Then the purges started.

Some stayed loyal to their origin and was struct by their creators themselves.

Some were seduced to the darkness by their fallen cousins and again sent to battle till none survived.

Yet she lived.

She survived.

For even if her dreams were no more, _hope_ was.

 _Hope,_ her only inheritance from her human ancestry. The eighth sin.

It made her less than an angel, less than a human and less than a nephilim. Yet in her primal, feral existence, she found survival.

Days turned to weeks, weeks to months, months to years and years to decades.

She became a non-existence. A footnote in the darkest hidden depth of the church along with the entirety of her species.

At every wound, she became faster, at every injury stronger. But never happier.

And hope had its limits.

And her hope came to an end along with her existence in the middle of nowhere.

Her last thought as her mind gave away was how similar the cocoon of snow looked to wings of pure white.

I dreamt of death, but could anyone die without living?

* * *

 **AN: So this believe it or not resting in my hard for at least a year and a half. But I really am not satisfied with it. I was going to abandon writing altogether but, well why the fuck not.**

 **I'd appreciate it if you could leave a review. But then again you'd appreciate it if I could write consistently or in a way that makes sense I guess.**

 **I do have a pretty good idea of where and how things are gonna go but this chapter is every bad thing in ffnet combined to one massive clusterfuck. And I am sorry for that.**

 **I'll be doing a stat sheet like update within the week. It won't be necessary to understand the fic, but I'll try to keep it enjoyable.**


	3. Stat sheet 1

Status sheet 1

The biblical races and Nephilim

* * *

Introduction to status sheets…

Name : (The Birthname of the being)

AKA : (the titles or names the being is identified)

Race(s) : (The parentage of a being. This only includes races with a name to themselves such as Angels, Dragons and sometimes mixed races such ad nephilim whose characteristics are too different from their parent races. Otherwise, for races such as half-devils their exact parentage will be specified)

Current affiliation : (The faction the being is currently known to be loyal to. It can be incorrect)

Physical rankings :

Strength : (E- ~ A+++)

Endurance : (E- ~ A+++)

Agility : (E- ~ A+++)

Mana : (E- ~ A+++)

Intelligence : (E- ~ A+++)

(The rankings vary from E which is considered to be at a level similar to ten times the amount of an average human to A which is considered to ba apex of attainability in each skill. The + or – marks indicate the number of ranks the said status could change during special circumstances. The intelligence ranking is only a representation of creativity in both battles and otherwise, in this, however, an average human is considered a C+. There is a special Ex rank or exception rank where the being's abilities are too different to be ranked via a conventional system.)

Racial traits :

(The abilities inherited by all beings of the said species)

Personal traits :

(The abilities or weapons unique to the being)

* * *

Name : Angels

AKA: Children of god

Race(s) : Angel

Current affiliation: Biblical heaven

Physical rankings :

Strength : E

Endurance : D

Agility : D+

(Increased when in flight)

Mana : C

(Being created from nothing but energy even lesser angels have a greater amount of mana than most races)

Intelligence : D-

(Angels are known to be blind and deaf to all but their father making them as good puppets in most cases)

Racial traits :

Flight:

All angels are given wings at birth which allows flight but is a very fragile part of their anatomy compared to the rest of their body.

Light Element:

The artificial element of light is accessible to all angels and is their preferred method of combat.

Partial Immortality:

Angels cannot die of natural causes including age and sickness.

Purpose of creation:

Most angels can very rarely think for themselves and are blindly obedient to their calling.

Personal traits :

N/A

* * *

Name : Devils

AKA: Children of demons

Race(s) : Devils

Current affiliation: Devil

Physical rankings :

Strength : D

Endurance : D

Agility : D+

(Increased when in flight)

Mana : D

Intelligence : C-

(Devils are known to be irrational concerning their sin)

Racial traits :

Flight:

All angels are given wings at birth which allows flight but is a very fragile part of their anatomy compared to the rest of their body.

Creative Magic:

The magical system of devils is known to be based on creativity. It is widely speculated that if humans had access to this type of magic they would easily defeat most races

Partial Immortality:

Devils cannot die of natural causes including age and sickness.

The sin of Origin:

While devils gained a better form of intelligence by evolving from demons, who were the living embodiment of the seven sins, they still are known to indulge themselves in their sin or risk madness.

Devil's tongue:

All devils are able to verbally communicate using any language usable by humans.

Nocturnal:

All devils have no problems with their vision during the night. However, they function more efficient during the night compared to the daytime.

Personal traits :

N/A

* * *

Name : Fallen angel

AKA: Fallen

Race(s) : Fallen angel

Current affiliation: Grogori / Independent

Physical rankings :

Strength : E

Endurance : D

Agility : D+

(Increased when in flight)

Mana : D

(After their corruption the light of their souls dims)

Intelligence : B-

(Fallen are known as the race closest to human amoung biblical races)

Racial traits :

Flight:

All angels are given wings at birth which allows flight but is a very fragile part of their anatomy compared to the rest of their body.

Light Element:

The artificial element of light is accessible to all fallen angels and is their preferred method of combat.

Partial Immortality:

Fallen angels cannot die of natural causes including age and sickness.

The sin of corruption:

Fallen angels align themselves to the sin which caused their fall and are known to be irresistible to the calling of their respective sin

Personal traits :

N/A

* * *

Name : Nephilim

AKA: Immortal offsprings of 'sons of God' and 'daughters of men'

Race(s) : Nephilim

Current affiliation: Extinct

Physical rankings :

Strength : D

Endurance : A-

(The Nephilim are considered the race most naturally resistant to both physical and mystical forces save for dragons and their kin)

Agility : E

Mana : E-

(It was a widely known fact that nephilim had no access to any form of mystic art though they were highly tolerant of them)

Intelligence : Ex

(With the rare exception, Nephilim almost never could think or feel for themselves)

Racial traits :

Flight:

All nephilim are given wings at birth which allows flight but are very bulky and did not offer much agility

Wings of steel:

The wings that gleam of steel are known to be resistant to any and all forms of attack. There was a period during the purge where nephilim were actively poached. The armors made of their plucked feathers are still revered for their defensive capabilities that are slightly better than adamantine when tempered.

Partial Immortality:

Nephilim cannot die of natural causes including age and sickness.

Tools of war:

The nephilim have, with rare exceptions, a very limited form of sentience or intelligence.

Personal traits :

N/A

* * *

Name : Human

AKA: 'Sons of Adam' 'daughters of Eve'

Race(s) : Human

Current affiliation: Various

Physical rankings :

Strength : E-

Endurance : E-

Agility : E-

Mana : E-

(Most humans have no access to mana)

Intelligence : B+++

(Known as the embodiment of potential, the vagueness of intelligence as a stat is the only reason that the race doesn't qualify for an Ex rank)

Racial traits :

Mortality:

Humans are known for their short life cycles thus are driven to achieve more in the shortest possible timeframe. The lifestyles of all races are defined by the current lifestyles of humans.

Creators of the faith:

Humans are the main source of 'faith', which allows most divine systems to function.

Personal traits :

N/A

* * *

Name : Micaella

AKA: N/A (the subject is unknown to the masses)

Race(s) : Nephilim

Current affiliation: Deceased

Physical rankings :

Strength : D

Endurance : C+

Agility : B

Mana : E-

Intelligence : E

Racial traits :

Flight:

All nephilim are given wings at birth which allows flight but are very bulky and did not offer much agility

Wings of steel (Altered):

The wings that gleam of steel are known to be resistant to any and all forms of attack. There was a period during the purge where nephilim were actively poached. The armors made of their plucked feathers are still revered for their defensive capabilities that are slightly better than adamantine when tempered.

However, due to the subject's style of combat, they have shifted from the likeness of adamantine to mithril, sacrificing the defensive capabilities for better agility.

Partial Immortality:

Nephilim cannot die of natural causes including age and sickness.

Tools of war:

The nephilim have, with rare exceptions, a very limited form of sentience or intelligence.

Personal traits :

Survivor of hope:

As the subject's hope was to lead her ideal life through survival, she is unable to prioritize anything beyond her need for survival.

The instinct to survive:

After Decades and maybe centuries of fight and flight for survival, the subject has a sixth sense for any and all attacks on her person as well as most of the malicious presences around her.

Dagger Expert:

Due to her unnatural combat style which includes using her own feathers as improvised weaponry, she has become an expert in the handling of all types of daggers.

Pain tolerance:

Due to the subject's unnatural combat style which includes using her own feathers as improvised weaponry, which is a comparatively brutal form of self-mutilation, she is extremely tolerant of pain.

Enhanced recovery:

Due to her unnatural combat style which includes using her own feathers as improvised weaponry, which is a comparatively brutal form of self-mutilation, as well as surviving without any use of healing arts on her person for decades, she is has gained an enhanced rate of natural recovery.

* * *

Name : Hyoudou Issei (During the great purges)

AKA: The Red Dragon Emperor

Race(s) : Reincarnated Devil (Former human)

Current affiliation: Independent/ Sona Sitry

Physical rankings :

Strength : C++

Endurance : C+

Agility : C+

Mana : D-

Intelligence : B-

Racial traits :

Flight:

All reincarnated devils are given wings at birth which allows flight but it is a skill very hard for non flying races to master.

Partial Immortality:

Reincarnated devils cannot die of natural causes including age and sickness.

The sin of Origin:

While devils gained a better form of intelligence by evolving from demons, who were the living embodiment of the seven sins, they still are known to indulge themselves in their sin or risk madness.

The subject is known to pursue the sin of lust.

Devil's tongue:

All devils are able to verbally communicate using any language usable by humans.

Nocturnal:

All devils have no problems with their vision during the night. However, they function more efficient during the night compared to the daytime.

Personal traits :

Dragon's blood:

The strength and Endurance of the subject are increased due to partial transformation to a dragon.

Boosted Gear:

The subject is the wielder of the boosted gear a mid-tier Longinus and has access to its related abilities.

Army killer:

The subject is known to be stronger in proportion to the number of enemies present. This is fueled by the fear of masses after the number of enemies the subject had massacred.

* * *

 **A/N**

 **Hope that was good. The story will pick up next chapter.**

 **Also the stats are obviously biased because there are abilities that everyone keeps as a last resort. For example if Micaella was to meet Issei he would most likely lose.**

 **Have a nice day and leave and do review, ffn do allow guest reviews and seeing as (most) ffn authors are not paid, the only gain an ffn author has is the ability to improve him/her self through critics.**


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